


I Got A Feeling

by ElliottRook



Category: Lost
Genre: Country Song, F/M, Fluff, cheesy serenade, episode s01e18 Numbers, or at least as fluffy as it can be with this show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23263396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliottRook/pseuds/ElliottRook
Summary: Set after the events of the episode "Numbers." Claire is still trying to figure out precisely how things stood between her and Charlie before she lost her memory...but with the events since then, does it really matter?
Relationships: Claire Littleton/Charlie Pace
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	I Got A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the song "I Got a Feeling" by Billy Currington, which you can hear here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFHBzVZMXk8

The encampment settled in the caves was winding down for the evening. Various survivors were going through their new nighttime routines, praying for a peaceful night.

Claire returned to her spot, followed by Locke, who was carrying a cradle. "Where would you like it?" he asked.

She smiled softly. "Right here is fine," she said, indicating above the head of her makeshift bed. Locke set it in place and gave it a push to set it rocking, apparently pleased with his construction. "Thanks again," she said. "I hadn't even thought of it. I haven't really thought about any of it. I don't know what the baby's going to wear or eat or anything."

Locke smiled. "Don't worry yourself about it. We'll cross those bridges when we get there." He patted her on the shoulder and left her alone.

She slowly and clumsily lowered herself to the bed, not for the first time cursing her girth. She didn't mind the baby in and of itself, but she hated the limitations it placed on her physically. She was, to some extent, looking forward to the imminent birth so she could regain her figure and her speed.

Since it seemed that Charlie was occupied for the moment, Lord only knew where, Claire decided to pass the time before sleep by rereading her journal. Charlie had given it back to her and pointed out that it was obviously the best way to help regain her memories. If she reread her first-person accounts it would be more believable.

She opened it randomly and tried to just read from where she started, but she was compelled to flip towards the back and look at one specific entry. " _Today I realized that I really like Charlie. Even in a scary place like this, he makes me feel safe._ "

Since she had come back, she had plenty of reason to be scared, and sometimes she was, but never with Charlie. Cheesy as it sounded even to her, she felt like he was one of those old-fashioned guys who thought he was supposed to protect the woman in his life.

But was she that woman? Claire wasn't sure. Apparently she had come to the conclusion that she liked him the same day that she was kidnapped; and she wasn't sure just how she had meant "really like." As of now she still wasn't quite sure. She adored him as a friend; her only real friend on the island. He was most assuredly attractive, and his little personality quirks like the tape on his fingers and the checkered shoes just made him all the more endearing. And he genuinely seemed to worry and care about her; he was always asking about the her and the unborn baby without making a nuisance of himself. (Claire was annoyed by the people who kept asking, "You haven't had it yet?" as if the watermelon attached to her stomach might still be there after the birth.) But would he stick around after the birth? Was he just a friend, or did he want to be more? Did _she_ want to be more? And if they were more, how would that _work_?

While lost among those thoughts, suddenly the object of Claire's confusion appeared. "Mind if I join you?" Charlie asked, not approaching any closer without Claire's approval.

She smiled brightly, glad for his company. "No, please do. I was bored." That wasn't entirely true, but she wasn't getting anywhere just thinking about it. "Where were you?"

Charlie skimmed over what had happened with Hurley going off in search of the French woman. "Bloody cheeky, that man is. But brilliant. He got the battery." He shrugged. "Now what's this?" he asked, moving past Claire to the cradle. "No, don't answer that. Where did it come from?" He squatted next to her bed, reaching out to push the cradle and make it rock gently.

"Locke built it. I helped a little," Claire said, and then recounted her day with Locke, describing how he'd asked for her help and made it without her knowing what she was helping with.

Charlie was a good listener, so he let her finish the story before remarking, "It's beautiful."

"It's my birthday present," Claire told him impulsively.

Charlie looked up suddenly. "What?" He was taken completely off guard.

"Today's my birthday."

"Why didn't you tell me it was coming?" Charlie asked. "If I'd known, do you think I would have spent all day tramping through the jungle chasing after Hurley? Jack and Sayid could've taken Boone or somebody. I only went because I was the closest person there." It bothered him more than he wanted to admit that she hadn't confided in him. It wasn't like it was some sort of secret, and she'd told him several of those, like the story of the psychic and all about the ex that had left her a single mother-to-be. And he already knew her age as well.

"It's not really like we could have celebrated," Claire said, turning pensive. "I mean, it kind of loses all its meaning here. It wouldn't be any fun because there can't be a real party. All the presents wold be practical..."

"Like peanut butter?" Charlie asked. Claire was taken off guard. He smiled. "Would you mind waiting here for a moment?" he asked.

"No..." Claire said, frowning in curiosity.

"Good. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

"You say that like I can lift myself up off the ground, Charlie." Claire ran her hand over her swelled belly affectionately.

He smiled at her and left. By the time he came back, Claire was sitting up. He now had his guitar with him, and something in his hand. "I found my luggage, you know, and these were in it, and I've been saving them for a special occasion." He held out three bottles of nail polish, black, red, and clear. "I can't think of anything more special than this. I'll do your nails any way you want."

Claire thought back and remembered his nails when they'd first crashed. "Which nails?" she asked.

"All of them," Charlie said, not understanding.

"Toes, too?" she asked mischieviously.

He smiled. "Why not?"

After some consideration, Claire chose to let Charlie do with her nails as he liked. He painted her toenails plain red with a black stripe across the top, then went crazy on her fingernails, doing all sorts of nail art, the symbols of the four suits of cards on her right hand with a red thumbnail, then his own special "Charliecure" on her left hand, the black streak across the bottom, over clear on most nails and over red on the pointer finger.

Claire held out her hands and wriggled her toes, admiring his handiwork. "Thanks, Charlie. I haven't felt this feminine in a long time."

He smiled. He liked doing the little things for her--it was really all he could do, and yet no one else was doing them. "It's nothing, luv. Now, while they all dry, I want to share something else with you." He sat back and grabbed his guitar, continuing to chat with Claire as he tuned it. "Little-known fact," he said, sounding completely calm and cool as usual to Claire, though he could hear his pulse racing in his ears. "Something my publicist tried to keep the interviewers from finding out, bad for the rock image, you know..." Claire quirked an eyebrow, making Charlie smile. "I loved country music."

Claire laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "A better-known fact is that I have an incredible memory for music. I can hear a song once and remember it forever."

Claire smiled as well. "Where are you going with this?" He was leading her along--this much she knew--and yet she didn't mind. Charlie's mind games were the fun kind.

Charlie's grin turned cheeky. "One of the last country songs I heard has been sort of...haunting me these past few weeks. It's taken me a day or two to work out how to play it, and now I want to sing it for you." He made one final adjustment to his strings, then strummed them. "Perfect." Taking a deep breath to gather his nerves, he began to play, and then suddenly to sing along.

"I don't want to rush this thing  
I don't really want to jump the gun  
I really want to say those three little words  
But I'm gonna bite my tongue

Yeah, I'm just gonna lay on back  
Leave it on cruise control  
I'm gonna hold it all inside  
'Til the right time comes down the road

I got a feeling  
My head's a-reeling  
My heart is screaming  
I'm about to bust loose  
Bottled-up emotion  
It's more than a notion  
It starts with an 'I'  
And ends with a 'U'  
I get a feeling  
You're feeling it, too

I guess I've all but said it now  
So much for hoping you'd go first  
Don't leave me hanging out here on a line  
Baby, it's your turn  
Say you could sleep last night  
Swore that you could feel me breathe  
Had you wanting me right there by your side  
Yeah, baby, I know what you mean

I got a feeling  
My head's a-reeling  
My heart is screaming  
I'm about to bust loose  
Bottled-up emotion  
It's more than a notion  
It starts with an 'I'  
And ends with a 'U'  
I get a feeling  
You're feeling it, too

Bottled-up emotion  
It's more than a notion  
It starts with an 'I'  
And ends with a 'U'  
I got a feeling  
You're feeling it, too..."

Charlie strummed the last few notes, then looked up at Claire expectantly. He'd kept his eyes on the strings, not daring to look up for fear her reaction stop him in his tracks. And there it was, he'd finally said it out loud, finally told her what had been bottled inside him almost from the moment they'd met.

Claire was too stunned to give his performance the applause it deserved. "Charlie--"

Charlie kept smiling, even while biting his lip. "Yes." He meant it.

Claire quickly reflected on the journal entry she'd just reread, and everything that had happened since. A soft smile came over her face. "Yes," she said as well. "I'm feeling it, Charlie, I've _been_ feeling it, I just didn't realize that's what it was."

Charlie's eyes lit up like she'd never seen them before. He set the guitar aside and crawled closer to her, sitting down next to her, facing her. He hugged her close and leaned his forehead against hers. "I love you, Claire. What I wrote on my hand was true, about my messed-up priorities, about you--it's fate. It's been a long, long time since I was as happy as I am now. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Claire." She nuzzled her nose against his and moved in for a kiss, but he placed two fingers on her lips. "Wait," he said. He got up and took the torch that lit her spot and placed it in the communal bonfire. He returned to her and wasted no time sitting right back where he was before.

He gently placed a hand on the back of her neck and moved her face closer to his. For the first time, their lips met softly. Claire felt as though she was losing herself in the warmth of the kiss, and she didn't mind one bit. She placed her hands on his neck as well; Charlie's strong hands moved across her back gently, soothingly. The kiss quickly deepened, Claire catching up for her lost time and Charlie expressing what had been completely pent up inside him for weeks. When they had to pull apart, Claire continued pressing tender kisses to his cheeks. They kissed a second time, and after just a moment more, she hugged him closer and started leaning back. Confused, Charlie broke the kiss, but Claire placed her lips on his again and tugged a little. This time he got the idea and laid down next to her--there was clearly no laying on top of her. Claire sighed happily.

Charlie looked at her, smiling crookedly. "Did that really just happen? Without you wanting to slap me, I mean?"

Claire laughed. "Yes, yes it did. You will stay here tonight, won't you?"

"So long as you want me."

She cuddled her head against his shoulder. "Of course I do. The only time I feel completely safe is when I'm with you."

"Well, I'm glad you feel that way, but since you don't really remember, I feel the need to point out that I was useless when--you know, Ethan..."

"Don't talk about that. He's gone now, thanks to you. You took care of that--took care of _me_."

Charlie felt a well-deserved swelling of pride rise up inside him. "It won't happen again. Especially since you're mine to watch out for now, right?"

"Right," Claire murmured. "Would you like to move your stuff here and share this spot with me? I'd feel safer...and I wouldn't be lonely anymore," she confessed.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," Charlie said. "But yes. Definitely." He slipped a hand down from her arm to her belly and placed it there protectively. "I don't just care about you, you know," he said. "I want to be there for the baby, too. I...I know it isn't mine, but I know that that bloody bastard Thomas walked out and left you standing alone in the rain, and so...well..."

"Are you asking if you can be the dad?" Claire asked.

"Well...yes. I don't just want to _help_ you raise this baby, I want to raise it _with_ you. There's a difference."

"Yes, there is," she said slowly. "And I have to admit I never thought I'd be so lucky..."

Charlie slowly shook his head. "No, you're not lucky, Claire. I'm far less than you deserve, so I'm the lucky one in this relationship." He suddenly yawned, making Claire giggle.

"Clearly you've had a long day. Let's get some sleep, and we'll worry tomorrow."

Charlie smiled and pulled her close. "All right. I love you, Claire."

"I love you, too, Charlie."

They shared one last kiss before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
